What Does asl Mean?
by katiecole0516
Summary: Dean has doubts. Castiel is curious. Is it fate or pure coincidence that they find each other on Omegle? Set after 8x23. Contains unresolved sexual tension. (Update: Originally intended to be a one-shot, but sexual tension is now somewhat resolved in Chapter 2)
1. What Does asl Mean?

**You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!**

**You:** Hi.

Stranger: asl?

**You:** What does "asl" mean?

Stranger: age sex location

**You:** Oh. Thank you for explaining that, everyone else just disconnected.

**You:** I've existed for millennia; I used to be genderless but my vessel is a male, and I can't leave my vessel anymore, so I suppose you could say that I'm a male now; I'm currently residing in a bunker that Dean says I can't disclose the location of, so I cannot provide you with that information. My apologies.

Stranger: …cas?

**You:** I would prefer that you call me Castiel. I've been informed that nicknames should be reserved for certain people only. But how did you know my name?

Stranger: GODDAMMIT CAS

**You:** Castiel, please. Not "Cas". And how did you know my name? Who are you? Are you a demon?

Stranger: ITS ME U IDIOT N U CANT JUST ASK PPL IF THEYRE DEMONS

**You:** Unless your name is "me", that response doesn't answer any of my questions at all. And I do not appreciate the insult.

**You:** …Unless your name is "me u idiot", in which case I apologize for assuming that it was an insult.

Stranger: dean!

**You:** Dean?

Stranger: yes

**You:** Why do you want to know about Dean?

**You:** If your intention is to harm him, I should warn you that I am now very well-trained in the use of firearms. You will not succeed.

Stranger: no u dumb SOB i mean its me, Dean!

**You:** …Dean?

Stranger: yes! now can u explain 2 me y ur on omegle?

**You:** I saw you on the website once, and I was curious. What does "SOB" mean?

Stranger: son of a bitch. and now u noe wat omegle is so get off

Stranger: in fact u shuld get off d internet altogether

**You:** Why?

Stranger: bcos if ur stupid enuf 2 giv random strangrs ur real info den u shuldnt be on d internet

**You:** But you asked.

Stranger: juz cos sum1 asks doenst mean u shuld giv it 2 dem! n u didnt noe it was me b4 u told me all dat stuff

**You:** I don't understand. If people aren't supposed to give you their personal information, then why did you ask them for it?

Stranger: …nvm. juz get off d internet n go 2 slp alrite?

**You:** What does "nvm" mean?

Stranger: nevermind

**You:** I'm trying to learn here, Dean. You're the one who asked me to make an effort to "fit in". It hasn't been easy, and I've been trying my absolute best because you asked me to, but you can't even take the time to explain to me what a word means?

Stranger: "NVM" IS SHORT FOR "NEVERMIND"

**You:** Oh.

**You:** I understand now.

**You:** Thank you, Dean.

Stranger: wtv

**You:** What does "wtv" mean?

Stranger: IT MEANS "WHATEVER" DO U RLY HAV 2 ASK WAT EVRY SINGLE WORD MEANS!

**You:** I'm fairly certain that my vocabulary is larger than yours, Dean. If you would just spell out the words properly, I'm sure I would understand you.

Stranger: fine are you happy now

**You:** Punctuation and capitalization would also help.

Stranger: FINE! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?

**You:** I'm considerably happier than I was before, yes. Thank you.

Stranger: Okay, whatever, now will you please just go the fuck to sleep?

**You:** Why are you so upset that I'm using the Internet? You and Sam use it all the time.

Stranger: The internet's fine for research and stuff, just stay away from sites like omegle.

Stranger: And for Christ's sake stop telling people that you're old and have a dick and live in a secret bunker! How many people have you been telling that to?!

**You:** None, all the ones that asked disconnected as soon as I asked them what "asl" means.

Stranger: Good.

**You:** Why is that good?

Stranger: Because you shouldn't be giving out information like that to STRANGERS, they could be anyone! Do you even know why they asked?!

**You:** Yes.

Stranger: …And you know what they actually want?

**You:** Yes, Dean, I know what they want, and I'm also quite willing to give it to them.

Stranger: WTF CAS!

**You:** What does "WTF" mean?

Stranger: IT MEANS WHAT THE FUCK!

Stranger: WHAT THE FUCK, CAS!

**You:** I'm not sure I understand your question. Is there something that comes after "WHAT THE FUCK"?

Stranger: ITS NOT A FUCKING QUSTION CAS ITS

**You:** It's what?

**You:** Dean?

**You:** Are you still there?

Stranger: Are you doing drugs too?

**You:** No. Why do you ask?

Stranger: You sure? Not even painkillers? What about alcohol?

**You:** I haven't taken any painkillers ever since I recovered from those injuries, and I don't drink anything other than what you offer me on occasion.

**You:** Why would you think I'm doing drugs or drinking excessively?

Stranger: Because…"women and decadence", that's what you said yourself.

**You:** I don't remember saying that. When did I say it?

Stranger: …You didn't. Not now-you, anyway.

**You:** You've encountered another version of me before?

Stranger: It doesn't matter. Just remember to stay away from absinthe and amphetamines and shit like that, understand?

**You:** I understand.

Stranger: Good.

**You:** Dean?

Stranger: What?

**You:** Are you upset with me?

Stranger: No.

**You:** Are you sure? It took you a suspiciously long amount of time to type a two-letter word.

Stranger: I'm not upset, okay?

**You:** Are you angry?

Stranger: No! It's fine.

**You:** You only ever say that when it's not.

Stranger: I'm not angry or upset or anything like that, okay?

Stranger: It just kind of surprised me that you're…you know.

**You:** ...No, I don't know. It surprised you that I'm what?

Stranger: That you're…doing stuff…on omegle.

**You:** You mean chatting with random strangers?

Stranger: Yeah.

**You:** What's wrong with that? I'm just talking to people.

Stranger: There wouldn't be anything wrong with it if you were "just talking"!

**You:** But that's exactly what I was doing, Dean, though I admit I haven't been very successful at it. The people here are very impatient and often disconnect without a word.

Stranger: No, you weren't "just talking"! You said it yourself, you're willing to just..."give it to them"!

**You:** I still don't understand what's wrong with that.

Stranger: Okay, fine, there's nothing "wrong" with that, and I know I'm the last person who should be judging you about this sort of thing.

Stranger: I just never thought you would be one of them, that's all.

**You:** What do you mean by "them"?

**You:** People who "give it willingly"?

Stranger: Yeah, I guess.

**You:** But don't you think that if everyone were to "give it willingly", the world would be a much better place?

**You:** Dean? Are you still there?

Stranger: What the hell's gotten into you?

Stranger: Even to me that sounds fucked up!

Stranger: Just because you're not an angel anymore doesn't mean you're worthless, Cas! It doesn't mean you should just go around giving it to whoever will take it!

**You:** But if someone needs it, then why shouldn't I give it to them?

Stranger: Because it should mean something to you! You deserve more than that!

**You:** I know it means a lot to you, Dean. That's actually part of the reason why I'm trying to give it to as many people as I can.

Stranger: What the hell are you talking about?

**You:** I'm trying to help people the way you helped me.

Stranger: What?

**You:** I don't know how I can make that any clearer. Could you be more specific on what you don't understand?

Stranger: What the hell do you mean, help people the way I helped you? When did I ever do that to you?

Stranger: Wait.

Stranger: When you said "give it to them", what exactly did you mean by "it"? What were you giving?

**You:** Friendship, of course.

**You:** That's what they want, isn't it? I see no other reason why anyone would want to know a stranger's age, sex and location if they weren't trying to make friends.

Stranger: Oh my god Cas.

**You:** I know that particular form of blasphemy is a common expression, but putting the word "God" next to my name brings up rather unpleasant memories of the Leviathans writhing inside me.

Stranger: Sorry.

**You:** No, it was my fault, you don't have anything to apologize for. It's just that it's uncomfortable for me whenever I'm reminded of that incident.

**You:** But that's exactly why I'm trying to help others, Dean. Even after I made so many wrong choices, even after I hurt your brother, you forgave me, and if I didn't have you as a friend when I fell, I don't think I could have coped as well as I did. I think the people on this website are in need of friendship, or why else would they want to spend their time talking to strangers? And if I can offer that, if I can help someone who might be going through a difficult time and be in desperate need for someone to talk to, then why shouldn't I?

Stranger: …That's great, Cas, it really is. Warms the cockles of my heart to know that you haven't changed, or at least not in the way that I thought you did.

Stranger: It's just that not everyone on the internet thinks the way you do, okay? Most of them aren't into the whole friendship thing at all.

**You:** Then what is it that they want?

Stranger: They're trying to figure out if they should start hitting on you.

**You:** Hitting on me?

Stranger: Flirting. Although a lot of them skip that and jump straight to the sex chatting. And don't ask me to explain in detail what sex chatting is, because I won't. You're better off not knowing.

**You:** Oh.

**You:** I understand now why you reacted so strongly.

**You:** I assure you I do not have any inclination to be involved in any form of sexual intercourse with strangers, Dean.

Stranger: That's really, really good to know. Keep it that way, okay?

**You:** Okay.

**You:** Dean?

Stranger: Yeah?

**You:** Were you trying to have a "sex chat" with a stranger?

Stranger: What?

Stranger: No! Of course not!

**You:** But the very first thing you typed when this conversation started was "asl".

**You:** And you said most of the people who do that aren't interested in just a friendship.

**You:** So were you trying to have a "sex chat" with a stranger?

Stranger: No!

**You:** Then why did you want to know my age, sex and location?

Stranger: It's complicated, okay?

**You:** You have attractive features, Dean. You would have no trouble finding a woman at a bar who wants to have sexual intercourse with you.

Stranger: I know that, it's just that I haven't done that in a while, alright?

**You:** I've noticed. Why is that?

Stranger: Because I'm trying to figure some stuff out.

**You:** What stuff?

Stranger: None of your business!

Stranger: Why are you so eager to get me laid, anyway?

**You:** I'm not.

Stranger: Didn't seem that way when you kept asking about it a minute ago.

**You:** I just want you to be happy, and since much of your happiness seems to be derived from having sexual intercourse, I just wanted to help you "figure some stuff out".

Stranger: Gee, thanks.

**You:** I understand that a "wingman" is sometimes required when one makes excursions to a bar. If you're in need of a "wingman", perhaps I could help.

Stranger: Cas, no offence, but you would probably be the worst wingman ever.

**You:** Is it because literal wings are required? I know I don't have mine anymore, but if you could explain how other humans obtain their "wings" for the task, perhaps I could still be of help.

Stranger: No! I didn't mean it like that! Geez!

**You:** Then why can't I help?

Stranger: Because your social skills suck, and because I don't want to get laid, okay? At least not with some random chick.

**You:** But you're obviously sexually frustrated, or you wouldn't have tried to have a sex chat with a stranger.

Stranger: DAMMIT CAS I WASN'T TRYING TO DO THAT!

**You:** …If you say so.

Stranger: …..Okay, I was kind of trying to, alright? Just not in the way you think, I wasn't doing it because I was horny.

**You:** Then why were you doing it?

Stranger: Just drop it okay.

**You:** As you wish.

Stranger: Good.

Stranger: If it was this easy to get Sam to quit asking about stuff that would be awesome.

Stranger: Sammy's such a bitch.

Stranger: Hey.

Stranger: Cas?

Stranger: Still there?

**You:** Yes, Dean, I'm still here.

Stranger: Well why are you so quiet all of a sudden?

**You:** Because you told me to drop it.

Stranger: I meant the subject, not the whole conversation!

**You:** I couldn't think of anything else to say. I can't stop trying to think of a reason why you might be unhappy.

Stranger: Oh come on! Now you're just making me feel bad.

**You:** I apologize.

Stranger: …Do you really wanna know?

**You:** I can understand if it's something you don't want to share, but I would feel better if I could help with it. If you want to just tell me how I can help without telling me any other details, I would be fine with that, too.

Stranger: There aren't really a lot of details to tell, it's all jumbled up in my head, anyway.

Stranger: But here goes.

Stranger: I was trying to have a sex chat.

**You:** I surmised as much.

Stranger: It's not what you think! I wasn't just trying to jerk off.

**You:** Were you trying to find a woman at a nearby location so you could have actual sexual intercourse with her?

Stranger: No.

**You:** Were you trying to find a suitable woman for Sam so that he could have sexual intercourse with her?

Stranger: NO! Why did you have to put THAT image in my head? Jesus!

**You:** Then why were you trying to find women through Omegle?

Stranger: I wasn't trying to find a woman, okay? I was trying to find a dude!

**You:** …You were trying to have a sex chat with a male?

Stranger: No! I was not trying to have a sex chat with a male!

**You:** …Was that sarcasm?

Stranger: NO!

**You:** …Was that sarcasm too?

Stranger: I wasn't trying to have a sex chat with a male, it was more like…I was trying to see if I would want to have a sex chat with a male.

**You:** Oh.

**You:** I think I understand now.

**You:** You're having doubts about your sexual orientation?

Stranger: I guess. Yeah. Whatever. Good job, Sherlock.

**You:** And…have you resolved your doubts?

Stranger: No. I only found one guy, and I disconnected after about two minutes because it was weird and creepy as hell.

**You:** Wouldn't that mean that you aren't sexually interested in men?

Stranger: ….I don't know.

**You:** Maybe you should try again.

Stranger: I don't want to.

**You:** You would prefer not to find out?

Stranger: I don't know, okay?

**You:** I think I have the solution.

Stranger: You do?

**You:** Yes. Instead of your usual type of bars, perhaps you should try visiting a gay bar instead.

Stranger: …

**You:** Does that help?

Stranger: No! I am NOT gonna walk into a gay bar and start hitting on random men!

**You:** Why not?

Stranger: Because I don't wanna sleep with random men!

**You:** Oh.

Stranger: Why are you trying so hard to pimp me out to random men, anyway?!

**You:** Dean, I'm not at all fond of the idea of "pimping" you out to random men. I'm just trying to help.

Stranger: Yeah. Okay. Brilliant job you're doing so far.

**You:** But didn't you just solve the problem by yourself? You just said in no uncertain terms that you don't want to sleep with men.

Stranger: I said random. I don't want to sleep with random men.

**You:** Is there a specific man that you want to sleep with?

Stranger: I don't know. Kind of, I guess.

**You:** I see.

**You:** Is it Aaron Bass of the Judah Initiative?

Stranger: What? No! And how do you know about him, anyway?

**You:** Sam told me about him. From what I understand, he was your "gay thing".

Stranger: Yeah, well, Sam's a tattletale bitch.

**You:** Was it Aaron Bass that caused you to have doubts about your sexuality?

Stranger: Hah! He wished. Nah, it happened quite some time before that.

**You:** When did it happen?

Stranger: …There wasn't like some big, gay revelation or anything, it was just…one day I just realized that I was thinking about ysomeone a lot, and he just happened to be in a dude.

Stranger: *someone, typo, sorry.

**You:** …In a dude? You mean he was in the middle of having sexual intercourse with another man?

Stranger: *just happened to be a dude. Typo again, sorry.

**You:** That's fine. Did you try telling him about it?

Stranger: No. That was kinda hard to do, considering the fact that he died.

**You:** Dean, that's…horrible.

**You:** My condolences.

Stranger: No, no, he…didn't exactly die, I just thought he did. Kind of.

**You:** Oh. That's…wonderful.

Stranger: Yeah. I guess. But if he hadn't died I wouldn't have realized all the stuff.

Stranger: That I was feeling.

Stranger: Or whatever it is.

**You:** Why do you speak as though he really did die?

Stranger: …He kind of did.

**You:** He's a supernatural being?

Stranger: Yeah, I guess you could say that.

**You:** That's…quite surprising.

Stranger: Why?

**You:** Because you're a hunter who hunts supernatural beings.

Stranger: Oh! No, he's not like that. He's different from the rest of them.

**You:** I see. He sounds very special.

Stranger: Oh, very. Dude's nothing like the others of his kind.

**You:** That's…wonderful.

**You:** Did you find him while you were on a hunt?

Stranger: ….It was kind of the other way around.

**You:** He found you?

Stranger: Yeah.

Stranger: Actually, now that I think of it, sparks really flew between us the first time we met. How's that for an epic love story, huh?

**You:** That does seem to be quite…wonderful.

Stranger: Yeah. And you know what else? After he died, it was a complete fluke that I found him again. Wasn't even looking for him specifically, and he just…showed up.

**You:** That's wonderful, Dean.

Stranger: I know, right? He wasn't in good shape, though, and then after that he was pretty much an idiot, got himself stuck somewhere and refused to let me help him get out, but…meh. Things worked out in the end and he's okay now.

**You:** That's absolutely wonderful, Dean.

Stranger: What makes the story really bizarre is that we keep getting separated, but then we keep finding our way back. Kinda like the couples in those stupid chick flicks Sam watches.

Stranger: And if you ever tell Sam that I compared my life to a chick flick I will murder you in your sleep.

Stranger: Anyway…it's like some weird force of the universe or something.

**You:** Like fate?

Stranger: I guess so.

**You:** I thought you didn't believe in fate.

Stranger: I don't.

Stranger: Or…I didn't…? I don't know, man. I mean, I don't believe anything's written in stone, or we wouldn't have been able to stop the apocalypse…but I dunno. Everything's different with him.

**You:** How so?

Stranger: Dude messes with my head. I get pissed off with him a lot, because he's the most stubborn, naïve idiot sometimes, but the last time I tried to stay angry with him, he went off by himself and…got injured real bad, and it's kinda hard to stay angry after something like that happens, right? Priorities get sorted out.

**You:** I suppose.

**You:** Are you in love with him?

Stranger: ….Honestly?

Stranger: I got no clue.

Stranger: I just know I can't lose him.

Stranger: See what I mean about him messing with my head? He gets me to say stupid stuff that sounds like it's straight out of The Notebook or something.

**You:** And you haven't told him any of this?

Stranger: Well…no. Not directly. Kind of just hinting at it, and I'm not sure he actually gets any of it.

**You:** If your feelings for him are so strong, why haven't you told him yet? Is it possible you could be mistaken?

Stranger: Mistaken…like…how?

**You:** Is it possible that what you feel for him is merely a temporary infatuation? Perhaps your subconscious knows this and is wisely prohibiting you from saying anything to him.

Stranger: Temporary? Heh. I dunno, Cas, does a few years sound temporary to you?

**You:** …You've been feeling this way for years?

Stranger: I guess so. Just took me way too long to realize it. I mean, come on, he was willing to give up everything for me, and I seriously mean everything, even his life a couple times. Kinda hard for anyone else to beat that, don't you think? In fact I can't think of anyone else who would think it was worth it to do that for me.

**You:** You can't think of anyone else who would do that? Anyone else at all?

Stranger: Well…Sam would, I guess, but I don't think he's interested in having sex with me, so…

**You:** And you really can't think of anyone else who might do that, or may have already done that?

Stranger: What, have sex with me?

**You:** Give up everything, including their life for you.

Stranger: Oh. Right.

Stranger: …No. He's pretty much the only one. And I don't think I need or even want anyone else to do that for me, either.

**You:** I see.

Stranger: Yeah. So. That's about it.

Stranger: Cas?

Stranger: You still there, buddy?

Stranger: Any more bright ideas to help me find true love and happiness or whatever they call it these days?

**You:** It's getting late, Dean. I'm tired. Goodnight.

Stranger: Dude, it's not even ten o'clock yet. What're you talking about?

Stranger: Cas?

**You have disconnected.**


	2. I Understand Now

**A/N:** This was supposed to just be a one-shot thing, and yes, I did originally intend to leave the story with a sad ending because that's how it ended in my head when I came up with the idea. But all the reviews I got asked me to continue, and a couple of ideas popped into my head in the middle of the night, so...here ya go :D It's not in the form of a chat log anymore (because, I dunno, a second meeting on Omegle wouldn't really make sense?) so I hope that wasn't what you were expecting. It's from Dean's point of view, and it's about two weeks after the chat. Thank you so much for taking the time to read it!

...

* * *

They're exhausted as hell when they finally get back to the bunker, but for Dean, it's been a pretty good day, because he got to clear out an entire nest of vamps.

It would have been a great day if Cas wasn't all pale and sweaty and clutching his shoulder in pain right now.

Dean takes care of his own injuries fairly quickly, because his manly warrior wounds consist of a self-inflicted cut on his arm and a scrape on his knee. He turns to look at Cas expectantly, and Cas doesn't say a word when he walks over, but that's nothing new, because Cas has been doing his best to ignore Dean for the past two weeks. But then Cas goes and walks right past him to sit down in front of Sam, and _that's_ something new, because the only person that's ever patched up Cas's injuries since he fell is Dean.

Sam notices this too, and he sends over a questioning glance which Dean pointedly ignores. He doesn't need to answer to people who like to blab about the "gay thing" he had with Aaron Bass.

Despite his gritted teeth, Cas lets out a very embarrassing sound when Sam pokes the needle into his shoulder, but Dean doesn't have the urge to make fun of it at all. It's because of him that Cas tore up his shoulder, anyway. Dean had been doing his usual, stupid, hey-look- I'm-bleeding-wouldn't-you-like-a-taste-of-me taunt halfway through their assault on the vamp nest, and it really wouldn't have been _that_ stupid if there had only been two vamps left like he thought. It had been a very unpleasant surprise when four of them came along, and it would have been lights out for him if Cas hadn't come charging out of nowhere to full on tackle two of them at the same time. Which, by the way, was also an incredibly stupid thing for Cas to do because he landed shoulder-first on top of a broken glass table, but it had given Dean just enough time to scramble for his machete and start kicking some vamp ass.

So Dean now knows for certain that Cas isn't pissed at him in the Christmas-comes-early-if-you-drop-dead-right-now kind of way, but he still doesn't know why Cas decides to ignore every single one of his jokes all the way through dinner.

...

By now Dean has figured out that it started right after their chat on Omegle that night, but it's already the fourteenth time he's reading through the chat log that he'll never admit he's saved, and he still can't figure out what it was that rubbed Cas the wrong way.

In fact, the more he thinks about it, the less sense it makes, because he practically bared his soul to Cas that night, and Cas has been around long enough to know that Dean doesn't just sit around baring his soul to people every day.

Fuck it. He needs to get to the bottom of this, because he listened to "Blue Eyes Blue" the other day and actually related to it, and that's a valid enough reason to start freaking the fuck out. So he marches over to Cas's room, and he's prepared to do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this.

Except Cas isn't in his room when Dean throws open the door with a righteous bang, and the grand entrance he planned is ruined.

The lights in the library are switched on, though, so that's where Dean goes next, and he's in the middle of trying to decide the best way to punish Sam for leaving his work strewn all over the table when he hears the sound of glass breaking in the kitchen.

He's running through all possible scenarios in his head as he rushes over, and he narrows it down to either Cas lost too much blood and collapsed; or the bunker's been infiltrated and something's gotten hold of Cas. He bursts into the kitchen, prepared to see either Cas's limp form on the ground or Cas's struggling form in the clutches of a monster, and instead he's greeted with the sight of Cas's butt.

"What happened?!" Dean asks urgently as his eyes dart around the room to evaluate all possible hiding spots for monsters, and he knows he needs to do something about the cabinet in the left corner because it's just the right size to hide a bunch of child changelings.

Cas straightens up and turns around with an irritated scowl, and he's holding shards of glass in his hands. "I dropped a cup," he says in a tone that's clearly also meant to imply, '_what else do you think, genius?'_

But Dean's not too bothered about that, because that's four whole words he's managed to get out of Cas's mouth, and his inner Joel Goodson starts doing a victory dance.

"You okay?" he asks, and inner Joel proceeds to trip over his own feet because Cas doesn't answer.

"Need to check your stitches," Dean mutters as he moves over to do just that, all the while convincing himself that bending over to pick up pieces of broken glass will put shoulder stitches at great risk. It's too bad that Cas isn't as convinced about that as Dean is, though.

"It's fine," Cas snaps, and he yanks his arm out of Dean's grip and pushes past him.

"You only ever say that when it's not," Dean responds almost at once, and he hopes it doesn't sound like it's because he's read their chat log fourteen times over and knows parts of it by heart.

Apparently it's the wrong thing to say, because Cas starts to walk faster, and they're back in the library again when Dean catches up to him. Dean's far from ready to give up, so he changes tactics.

"I haven't thanked you yet," he says as he pulls on Cas's arm in an attempt to get him to stop. "So thanks."

Cas stops and turns to look at him, so Inner Joel picks himself up off the floor and starts dancing again.

"For what?" Cas asks.

Dean's tempted to use the '_what else do you think, genius?'_ tone from earlier, but he manages to restrain his vocal chords and make them behave. "For busting your shoulder to save my life," he says earnestly.

And now Dean is seriously confused, because Cas's gaze actually hardens at his words, and Dean thinks it's a pretty weird reaction to give to someone who's thanking you for saving their life. "Why are you thanking me for something you didn't need or even want?" Cas says in a bitter tone before stalking off again.

Or he tries to stalk off, because Dean has _no_ idea what that meant, and he has had it up to _here_ with this shit, so he grabs Cas by the arm firmly and spins him around again.

"Are you homophobic or something?" Dean asks bluntly and boldly, but if he's being completely honest about it, he's absolutely terrified right now that Cas's answer to that will be 'yes'.

"No. Why would you think that?" Cas looks genuinely confused, and Dean is able to breathe normally again, which is important, because he needs air to keep asking the questions he wants to ask.

"Because you've been acting weird ever since that stupid chat we had, so would you care to explain what the hell is going on in your head?!"

Cas actually looks _hurt_ at the mention of the chat, and Dean has to wonder if some monster's managed to throw him into an alternate universe in which none of Cas's reactions make_ any fucking sense_.

Quite a while passes, and Cas still doesn't say anything, but Dean can't think of anything else that's more important than this, so he waits. Maybe another apocalypse will start while he's just standing there staring into those ridiculous blue eyes, but he's already saved the world twice now, and the person standing in front of him helped both times, so the third apocalypse can take a fucking number and wait in line until he's done sorting things out with Cas.

Cas drops his gaze to the floor when he finally starts speaking again, and something in Dean's chest clenches painfully when he hears the gut-wrenching sadness in Cas's voice when he says, "It's just hard for me to understand why."

Every crossroads demon has finally grown smart enough to ignore it when a Winchester calls, which is actually a good thing, because Dean thinks he wouldn't hesitate to sell his soul for a second time if it meant that Cas would never have to sound this miserable again.

Dean's still confused as all hell, though.

"Understand why _what_?" he asks, trying to be as patient as he possibly can.

Cas looks up to meet his eyes again, and Dean has the urge to punch the ever-living shit out of whatever it is that's making Cas look so tortured.

"Understand why you can't see that –" Cas hesitates, and then he looks away again, and Dean can see that he's struggling to decide whether he should say what's on his mind. Dean lets him take his time, and another while passes before he finally continues with, "No. It's nothing of import, Dean."

Dean has to fight down the impulse to scream.

"It's of _import_ to me if it's bothering you this much!" Dean says through teeth that he doesn't think can be gritted any harder. "Now spit it out, Cas! What is it?"

"It's just hard to understand why you can't see that I would have done what he did for you, too!" Cas blurts, looking angry and wounded now. "And I meant every word of what I said – I just want you to be happy, and I'll do what I can to help, but it hurt when you said that you couldn't think of anyone else who would do what he did for you, because I would, Dean! And I have!"

Dean needs more than a few seconds before he's finally able to process that Cas is _jealous_.

And it's a good thing that Dean's multitasking-not-supported brain is currently overloaded with shock and disbelief and pure, unadulterated joy that Cas returns his feelings, or he would be howling with laughter in Cas's face right now because Cas doesn't know that he's actually being jealous of _himself_.

Dean sees that the misunderstanding he's caused has grown to be the size of Sam, and he mouths wordlessly and stupidly as he tries to find a way to express himself, but whichever deity that's in charge of bestowing the gift of articulacy has never been very kind to Dean, and he figures, hey, actions speak louder than words, right? That particular deity's probably the Aquaman of gods, anyway.

When Dean kisses Cas for the first time, the feeling is far from anything that he ever imagined.

Because every single time that he's imagined what kissing Cas would feel like, it had involved Cas kissing him back. And right now Cas is just standing there, frozen, and his lips are so still that if they weren't warm, Dean would have started to perform CPR.

It's fine, though. Cas is probably new to this, and Dean's more than happy to show him the ropes and let him have a little practice first.

Dean's expecting Cas to start responding in a little while.

Any time, now.

A shy, hesitant peck, perhaps.

Or a quiver of his lips, at least.

What Dean isn't expecting is for Cas to push him away with a strength that makes Dean wonder if Cas has somehow gotten his Grace back. Dean's hip slams hard against the edge of the table, and he grunts in pain.

Okay, so maybe Cas is really enthusiastic about this. Or maybe watching all that porn has made him realize that he's into the rough, kinky, sweep-everything-off-the-table kind of sex.

But something in the picture doesn't fit, and it takes Dean a moment to realize that it's Cas's eyes. They're blazing with unmistakable fury, and Dean doesn't think that anyone who's about to have sex would be this angry.

"Cas, wha—"

Dean doesn't even get the chance to finish his question because Cas grips hold of his shirt and shoves him backwards one more time, and it's probably on purpose that Cas makes sure that the same hip Dean used to hit the table with earlier hits it again. Dean barely has time to wince in pain before he's hauled up, whirled around, and slammed against the wall.

It's horribly reminiscent of that one time in that one dark alley where Cas totally kicked his ass and showed him who's boss. But Cas isn't an angel anymore, which makes it about ten times worse, because Cas is still a downright scary beast when hand-to-hand combat is involved, and this time there won't be any angel mojo to heal Dean up when Cas is done with him.

But Cas doesn't start throwing punches, and Dean is very grateful for that because he really doesn't want to have to punch Cas back. Instead, Cas skips straight to the part where he leans in close and speaks in a low, threatening snarl.

"When I said that I would do what I can to _help_," he hisses in Dean's face. "It didn't include being your _test subject_ on whom you can _experiment_ with your sexuality before you finally grow the _testicles_ you lack to tell him how you feel. Find someone _else_ for that, because I have more self-respect than you give me credit for."

With one last shove, Cas releases his grip on Dean's shirt and steps back, and he makes sure Dean sees his terrifyingly furious glare before he turns to leave.

Dean sends a silent apology to the Aquaman of gods because apparently, actions only speak louder than words if you're absolutely certain that the other person is a regular human being with a normal brain who will know what your actions mean.

"IT'S YOU, YOU DUMB SON OF A BITCH!" Dean yells in frustration.

Cas turns around and looks as though he's ready to start throwing punches now, so Dean decides that it's in his best interests to clarify a little further.

"I'M IN LOVE WITH _YOU_!"

There's a long pause in which they keep their gazes fixed on each other, which is why Dean can see the exact moment where Cas goes through the chat log in his own head and realizes just how stupid he is for getting jealous over a guy that's actually himself. It's also the moment where Dean realizes that he's equally stupid for throwing all those moronic hints when he should have just come right out and said it.

"Oh," Cas finally says after a while. "I understand now."

"Good," Dean says in reply. "Took you long enough."

Cas frowns and narrows his eyes. "You're in no position to judge. I had to die for _you_ to realize that you were in love with me."

Dean's eyebrows raise in indignation. "I kissed you and you still didn't get it, and that's like a whole new level of stupid, Cas."

Now Dean's actually kind of worried, because he's pretty sure he's read somewhere before that healthy relationships are supposed to be balanced. If one of them hates olives, the other one should like them. If one of them is stupid enough to bleed himself in the middle of an occupied vamp nest, the other one should be smart enough not to throw himself at any of the vamps without first planning a landing spot that doesn't contain shattered glass.

And then Dean has one more thing to worry about, because Cas is gripping his shirt again, and Dean really doesn't think that his hip will survive one more round with the table. "I'm sorry I called you stupi—"

But it turns out Cas isn't angry about being called stupid at all, because it's not a shove this time. It's not even a push. It's a pull, and Dean's apology is cut short by a pair of lips pressing against his mouth, and Dean realizes that he couldn't be more wrong for thinking that Cas would need a lot of practice. Or maybe just knowing that it's _Cas_ who's kissing him is enough to get him so high on happiness that he couldn't care less if tongue techniques and lip tricks are thrown out the window to keep his heterosexuality company. And if anyone ever asks, _this_ is going to be Dean's official first kiss with Cas, because the other first one where Cas stood perfectly still for five seconds before shoving Dean into a table was so pathetic that Dean might as well have been kissing the Sucker Punch Wall on Wipeout.

Dean's trying to be careful about the stitches on Cas's shoulder, but Cas doesn't seem to appreciate the effort at all because he uses that arm to push away the stuff that Sam's left on the table. It's hilarious, because Sam never leaves his stuff out like that, and it's like the universe somehow made Sam forget to clear away his stuff tonight just so Dean could find out that he's not wrong about Cas liking the rough, kinky, sweep-everything-off-the-table kind of sex. And Dean's hip does end up going one more round against the table, but this time it's completely voluntary on his part. His fingers are all tangled up in Cas's hair, and he's almost lying flat on his back on the table when he decides that, fuck it. They're going to be equally stupid together in this relationship and leave Sam to do everything else that involves brains.

There's a loud crash that echoes around the room.

It's the kind that makes him want to reach for the nearest weapon because the noise is too far away for him or Cas to have caused it. He knows without looking, though, that there are no weapons within their reach. The sharpest thing that's close by is Sam's pen, and even that has been swept to the floor.

It makes him want to kick himself for actually believing that the universe would just let him be happy for once.

And he really should have done something about the cabinet in the left corner of the kitchen, because now the child changelings that were hiding in it are out for blood, and he wonders if they'll let him and Cas go if he explains to them just how happy he knows he's going to be with Cas.

But he quickly decides against it, because then the changelings are just going to kill Cas first and make Dean watch, and then one of them will hand him a gun, and their laughter will be the last thing he ever hears before he puts the gun to his head and shoots himself.

Cas turns his head sharply in the direction where the crash came from, and Dean has the urge to turn Cas's head back to face him, because he thinks that if the last thing he sees before he dies is Cas's eyes, then maybe it won't be so bad.

Cas's face doesn't even show the slightest hint of fear as he stares at the changelings, and Dean puts 'BAMF-esque bravery in the face of death' down on the list of things in his head that he loves about Cas. The List isn't long, but that's only because Dean has just started it recently. Cas asked him two weeks ago if he was in love, and at the time, Dean honestly had no clue. But the moment where he had to spell it out for Cas with the very loud "I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU!" was also the moment where he wondered why he ever had any doubts about it in the first place, and so, naturally, the next logical thing to do was to start a list so he'll have something to refer to if his stupid brain ever starts doubting it again.

It's a shame that now he won't have time to put more things down on the List, because he has this feeling that he'll never run out of things to add.

Cas opens his mouth to say something, because Cas is the kind of person who'll want to make his last words count ('_Hey, assbutt!_'). This time, though, Dean thinks he already knows what he's going to hear, and he readies himself to give the correct response of 'I love you too', because he'll never forgive himself if he screws it up on the first and only time they'll get to say this to each other.

And then Cas straightens up from where he's pressing Dean down to the table, and he's as cool as a cucumber when he says, "Hello, Sam."

Dean pushes himself up quickly, and the image of the murderous, sadistic child changelings that he's been imagining in his head is replaced by the sight of his brother fidgeting uncomfortably in the doorway. "Sam?!"

"I'm sorry!" Sam says immediately, his face red enough and his expression mortified enough for Dean to know that he really means it. "I'm sorry, I was just – there was a book I needed, and it was in the inner shelves, and I went to get it, and then you two came out of the kitchen and started talking, and I didn't want to interrupt because…well, you know how you are, Dean, you'll shove it all down and never bring it up again."

Sam actually dares to give him a glare, and Dean glares right back to let him know it's all his fault that Dean's throat doesn't still have Cas's tongue shoved down it.

"And then you two…became _occupied_, and I thought I could leave without interrupting anything, but then I –" Sam gestures miserably at the overturned shelf and the books that are scattered all over the floor, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that in his hurry to leave, Sam had run into the shelf with his stupid Paul Bunyan body and knocked it right over.

That poor shelf.

Dean lets out a groan when he realizes that Sam's been there for the entire freaking time, which means that he witnessed the pathetic Sucker Punch Wall fake first kiss they had that Dean just desperately wants to pretend never happened. The universe is probably laughing its ass off right now, and Dean mentally flips the bird at it.

"I'm sorry," Sam says again in a strangled voice. "I think I'll just…go now." And then he bolts out of the room as fast as his stupid gigantor legs can carry him. There's a loud slamming of Sam's bedroom door, and Dean knows that it's an assurance from his brother that he's leaving them well and truly alone for the rest of the night.

Dean looks at Cas, and Dean's amused to see that despite the raging hard-on Cas is sporting, he's still somehow managing to keep his expression as stoic as usual. Dean's taking that as a challenge, and now he's just itching to know how composed Cas will still be able to look when Dean's done with him.

"How about we go continue this some place more suitable?" he asks, and there's a shy, slightly awkward moment where he's unsure if Cas will object to Dean reaching out and taking his hand.

Cas doesn't object, and Dean's face breaks into a grin as he starts to pull Cas along, but then Dean's confused by the tug on his hand that tells him Cas just tried to walk off in the opposite direction.

"Uhh…bedroom's this way," he points.

But Cas has this slight frown, and Dean is suddenly wondering if this is one of those sad, tragic, sorry-I-just-got-caught-up-in-the-heat-of-the-mome nt-it-won't-happen-again things that will be over before it even really starts. Zeppelin's "Dazed and Confused" is a good song, but if it's going to make him want to cry after this, then he's going to have to stop listening to it and that's going to suck.

Dean stares at Cas, and Cas stares right back, and Dean tells himself very firmly that he's going to take this like a man.

He waits for Cas to speak, and he doesn't care if the fourth apocalypse has now arrived to line up behind the third, because they can all go fuck themselves in a corner while he sorts things out here with Cas.

"But the dungeon's that way," Cas points, and he looks perplexed, as though he's wondering why he even has to explain this most obvious thing in the world to Dean.

That perplexed look is something that Dean decides to add to the List, and not long after that he also decides to add the smirk that Cas gives him as they step into the dungeon together.


End file.
